Hi! <Waves>

Funny and honest tales from a made-to-work Dad of three, wobbling, graying, and laughing his way through parenthood. Armed to the teeth with Nerf guns, full of pie, fighting a chocolate addiction, but genuinely honoured to be at least half of Team Parents (yay!).
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11 November 2016

Maths Promotion... Or... Why I Had To Eat Lots of Bacon (Had To)...

Boy9 came home with good news.
He had moved up a maths group and Team Parent (yay!) wanted to make sure he felt rewarded and appreciated for it.
Mrs. Amazing suggested an all you can eat breakfast buffet. I love her.
Of course by celebrating and taking him out obv. we are manipulating him for our own selfish needs. But hey! That's part of parenting.
Gotta dangle those carrots...

Go on... Do the extra homework
Boy9: 'Can't I have your phone and go Pokémon hunting?'
a) No
b) It's my phone that I use for very important grown up activities...
Boy9: <Interrupts> 'Like playing Pokémon'
<Interrupts the interrupt> like SOMETIMES playing MY Pokémon GO game, on MY phone, with MY account.
c) No, because you ain't walking about with my phone on your own in a field looking for Pokémon when it's dark, without an adult
Boy9: <Sticks out tongue>
Quite. Yeah I know you think you're going nine forever... Now the extra homework?
<Pushes the homework sheet closer to Boy9>
Boy9: 'What do I get for doing it?'
The satisfaction of work well done. Self worth. Stuff like that
Boy9: <Sticks out tongue>
<Dangles actual carrot>
Boy9: 'I don't want a carrot'
Really? Damn... <Eats carrot>
Mod moo mooit for the moy of mearning? <Sprays carrot everywhere>
Boy9: 'a) No'
Boy9: 'b) Ha ha haaa a haaaaaaaaa... haaaaaaa. no'
Touché

(Boy9: ‘Quick Dad! I just caught a Charizard!’
Oh cool <Doesn’t move>
Boy9: ‘It just set your guitar on fire!’
<Moves>)

There's a local restaurant that does 'Kids eat free' (suckers).
And eat as much as you like (suuuuuuckers!). All five of us rocked up at 9:30am. Only Team Parent (yay!) had to pay.
It was nice for a change that we could make the most of being a family of five.
Lots of places we go to, the pricing, and indeed the dictation of what is a family, is set firmly at four. This was two free kids per paying adult. We even had a spare slot!
Theoretically.

We chose a booth.
And the lady serving us suggested it too. It's easier to trap the children in if a parent blocks the way. Obv. not foolproof as they are slippery little suckers.
Miss5 was always going to be sat next to Mrs. Amazing. There wasn't any doubt. Even Boy9 couldn't be bothered to fight to be next to Mummy. So I trapped Boy9 and BabyBoy2 in my side.
BabyBoy2 stood up on the chair immediately and had a good look about. Like a meerkat checking for Hyena's. I wonder what he saw.
To me it was a busy-ish restaurant full of people getting food. In a normal-ish way.
To BabyBoy2 though it must have been a room full of giants. Even though it was kids eat free. It was mainly full of adults.
Team Parent (yay!) understood this on some level. As there was no way he was going to be allowed to wander about on his own. Had there been more kids and parents about.
It may have been different.

The nice lady arrived to take our order.
The evil lady was busy. We could order whatever we liked from the English breakfast menu (eggs, bacon, sausage, etc. fatty yummy stuff) and then you could help yourself from the Continental food area (croissants, cereal, toast, jam, tea etc... oh and that stuff from trees… fruit!)
The aim of Team Parent (yay!) here is fill all the children with enough food to last them until tea time. As we're off out to fireworks and it will save us doing lunch.
Mrs. Amazing orders a reasonable, but nice, breakfast. I do the same but I scale it up. Greedy Man stylie…

Two eggs please. Two sausages. Two rashers... No four!
Lady: <Writes down four>
Actually make that eight.... No six. Eight is too much
Lady: <Writes down get fatty lots of bacon>
<Regrets not sticking with eight>
<Plans to steal someone else's>

We then optimistically order for the kids.
Boy9 is made to order some variety of egg. Otherwise, and I've no idea where he gets it from, he may just eat bacon.
Miss5 doesn't want anything meat based as per normal. But we insist as she needs protein. And add some bacon on for her.
BabyBoy2 is not asked and we just order what he is most likely to eat. More in hope than expectation though.
He's still got a snuffle. He’s dosed up on Calpol. And not back to his normal black-hole eating capabilities.

Then we hit the Continental area.
We have to go in two trips so that each child can choose what they want. But obv. with an adult nearby so that they don't toast their face or something. One of us stays behind because... er... we are worried someone might take the table?
Only Boy9 is trusted to go off on his own and then return. And even then...,
Miss5 is still a bit too young and it's a busy restaurant. She may get accidentally drop-kicked out of the building.
And BabyBoy2, well, he can get distracted whilst getting off a chair he’s on.
And then fall off.

(That’s BabyBoy2 sorted for round one…)

We return with mainly pain au Chocolate.
A plate full. And croissants. And waffles. Jam, butter, and lots of Golden Syrup packets.
Boy9 has gone light on his plate. But when asked is ready planning a return trip.
I am so proud.
Miss5 has chosen cereal the loon.

Team Parent (yay!) get tea.
And the rest of our food is on the kids plates. We know not everything will get eaten and so plan is to 'help' them out.
I start stuffing BabyBoy2 with pain au chocolate and he happily munches away on it. Jumping up and down on the chair. Boy9 is told off for doing the same.
And everyone justs eats. And it's lovely. All of us together. Mrs. Amazing makes a 'we are gathered here today because of Boy9...' speech.
But mainly we all sit nicely and quietly in a restaurant and eat.
Ahhhh... lovely.
Of course it doesn't last.

The tea is gone too quickly and I head off for another.
With BabyBoy2 is tow. He needs more pain au chocolate. As someone sat next to him has been eating his food. <Does shifty eyes>
I get extras / spares for me too.
Boy9 heads off to the loo already. With a clear instruction that this is the one and only toilet trip he is allowed.
When I get back Miss5 wants to hit the Continental area again. As cereal wasn't the best choice (as we all knew). So Mrs. Amazing and Miss5 head off.
I battle with BabyBoy2 about drinking something. And then genius give him the milk leftover from my tea.
Boy9 asks to go to the toilet again.

And that goes on for about an hour.
Team Parent (yay!) getting up and down and taking someone, all of them, strangers, back and forth to the Continental area. Amid getting more tea.

My food is starting to get a bit cold.
And I've a back log. Mrs. Amazing is the same the other side. The plates on the table are stacking up and the children are starting to loose focus.
That moment just before, when it was all lovely and nice and great. Which I loved and will do this again, just for that moment. That's gone. Well gone.
It's nipped off and found a pub open at that time in the morning. It's already on it's third.
Lucky moment.

BabyBoy2 has escaped.
Cerberus I am not. As BabyBoy2 is lying on the floor between some tables. Quite happy though. Just very in the way.
I am taking the free time to eat. Whilst looking about in case someone comes his way not expecting to find a two year old sprawled out on the floor.
Boy9 has his shoes on the chair again. BARK BARK. Shoes come off chair.
His eggs are still untouched. And a one sided discussion about how he should eat them occurs. I eat them so they don't go to waste.

Crayons and drawing stuff is then got for them all.
Which seems like a brilliant idea and gets BabyBoy2 back to his seat. But after picking up his crayons for the ber-billionth time in a minute. Fights over colours and menu’s getting graffitied.
It starts to feel like a really sucky plan.

We don't hang about much after this.
The fun is wearing thin and BabyBoy2 is now colouring under the table. We're not sure what he is colouring either.
Boy9 is bouncing about and wanting to swap seats with a very reluctant Miss5.
We pay up. And then all waddle out. Full. To go home and rest for a bit.
Maybe make a cup of tea.
Boy9's maths promotion well and truly celebrated. And Team Parent (yay!) not needing to do lunch.
Winner!

However just before that.
Miss5 heads off to the toilet on her own. Hands very covered in Golden syrup.
Because she was using her hands to eat Golden syrup. There was a pancake involved, but mostly ignored.
Miss5 assures us all she will be fine. Team Parent (yay!) exchange looks and glance across the big, now quite busy with adults, restaurant.
I follow after her still eating covertly.

I am spotted.
And Miss5 tells me to go away. She doesn't need any help. Even with the big heavy doors. She is fine.
I explain I am going to the toilet for my own needs and wasn't following her at all.
She buys it. And once at the toilets we separate and I watch my little girl head off into the ladies alone. Slowly. As it takes her ages to open the big heavy doors.
It's weird. I've no idea what is in the room she has just gone into. And I am unlikely to ever know. I find that quite strange and unsettling.
Still. I watch her go in and just wait outside.
It's lucky I did. As Miss5 comes out moments later...

What's wrong? Can't you open the doors?
Miss5: 'No. I can!'
Is there something evil yukky in there?
Miss5: 'No'
What's wrong then?
Miss5: 'I can't reach the taps...'

(Quick quick! Before the landlord comes back!
Reach up and grab one of those taps)

My mind reels like a cool movie.
(Because it's my tale and that's how I am going to portray my thoughts). Like an awesome and very slick cool movie. My mind zings and zangs (cool gone) through the closed doors and walls, and darts into the men's and checks my memory of the taps.
If the ladies are in any way similar to the mens. Which they probably are.
I can see Miss5's problem clearly. She has little T-Rex arms.
It's a height and reach problem. I smile at her and tell her OK, I can help.
Miss5 starts for the ladies door...

I can't go in there!
Miss5: 'Why not?'
Court order
There was a lot of fuss last time. I never got my camera back...
Laws mainly. Everyone is allowed some privacy when weeing. Not many grown up ladies would be happy to see a man in there
Miss5: 'Oh'
Miss5: ‘...’
You're going to have to come in here with me...  <Points at the mens>

I can see she is disappointed.
She managed the big heavy doors all on her own after all.

Miss5: 'Is it smelly and yucky in there'
There is a very high chance that it is, I am afraid...
<We go in>
Miss5: 'Ewww!'
Yup...

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4 November 2016

Carving the Pumpkins...

Halloween fell on a monday this year.
Which is a bit crap. Far nicer last year. When it was on saturday.
Far easier to stay out late with the munchkins having fun last year.

And it was the first Monday of the school term.
There was no chance any of my lot were staying out late. Going from house to house demanding chocs from people trick or treating...

[Bing Bong]
<Door opens>
Kids: 'Trick or treat!'
Twonk: 'Treat!'
<Confused looks all round>
...
Boy9: 'Dad! This guy said treat!'
Twonk Cool. That's his choice...
<Whispers to Boy9> Send in the little boy
<BabyBoy2 pushed to the front, not dressed up as he refused again>
BabyBoy2: <Sticks out ickle hand> 'Choc? Pweeease???' <Big imploring eyes>
Twonk: <Cracks> Oh you're just too cute! Here, here, here <Hands out lots of sweets>
Kids: 'Thank you'
Team Parents: 'Thank you twonk'

Halloween prep started on Sunday.
Carving time. We had been out having a right laugh visiting trains and the such. Poop-poop etc. We got back, ate, rested. And then Team Parents (yay!) suddenly remembered it was Halloween tomorrow.
Smeg!
It had nearly slipped our minds. Because Mrs. Amazing was full of cold and not her normal self. And because I wasn't full of cold and was my normal myself.

Still we did remember.
In your faces! And Team Parent (yay!) instantly sprung into action and became an efficient pumpkin carving unit.
I'll make a cuppa...
Mrs. Amazing: 'I'll get something to nibble'

Mrs. Amazing was chief scooper.
Because our knives are not sharp. Eons ago I spent a lot of time working in restaurants for cake. And I was taught that a safe knife is a sharp knife. <Cackles>
Yet in our house we have eight six little hands reaching into drawers without looking. Awesome.
So keeping knives beard trimmer razor sharp seems a bit like leaving pens on the floor in a star shape... A pentangle if you will... And then being miffed when a demon shows up...

(Cup of tea?
ScaryFlamingDemon: 'TWO SUGARS PLEASE’
ScaryFlamingDemon: 'AND CREAM IF YOU’VE GOT IT’)

[BAMF]
ScaryFlamingDemon: 'YOU SUMMONED ME MORTAL!'
<Pauses Bake off on tele>
Wothca. No. Sorry. <Picks up tea> There must be some sort of mistake.
We didn't order a Demon
ScaryFlamingDemon: 'YOU MOCK ME? I SEE THE PENTANGLE OF SUMMONING BEFORE ME!'
<Glances down> Oh... that. Miss5! MISS5! You've left your colouring pens on the floor again! Come clean them up!
Miss5: <Scurries downstairs> 'Hello' <Waves>
ScaryFlamingDemon: 'HI' <WAVES BACK>
Miss5: 'Silly me!' <Picks up pens> <Manages to get pen on her face, hands, legs and nose>
ScaryFlamingDemon: 'I SEE' <LOOKS A BIT LOST>
Sorry. Is there anything else we can help you with?
ScaryFlamingDemon: 'YES SMEGGER! WHILST I'M HERE I'll HAVE YOUR MORTAL SOULS'
Uh-huh... Miss5? <Has a sip of tea>
Miss5: 'FREEZE' <Freezes the Demon on the spot just like Elsa would>
Boy9? <Has another sip-a>
Boy9: <Appears armed to the teeth in Nerf guns> 'Yes Dad?'
Help this gentle...er... demon out will you...
Boy9: 'What?'
Pardon <Gives look> Shoot him / it!
[Lots of shooting and missing, eventually the Demon explodes into a million pieces]
Mrs. Amazing: <Is walking though>
Mrs. Amazing: <Whips out magic wand and says her magic words> 'Diamonds and shoes' <Doesn't stop>
[All pieces of Demon are sent back to the demonic portal they emerged from, rug is straightened, sofa cushions are fluffed and a fresh cup of tea appears]
<In awe> You are a-maze-zing!
<Unpauses Bake off>

Anyhoo...

I cut the tops off the Pumpkins.
With a blunt knife. Mrs. Amazing scooped like a boss. And then, foolishly I feel, we asked the children what they wanted carved into / onto their pumpkins.
They had one each. Like little red riding hood, but with pumpkins. Sizewise (not bear and porridgewise obv.).

BabyBoy2's pumpkin:
Well he didn't have any requests. He was pretty confused why we had huge vegetables on the table and knives out.
Babyboy2 just wanted to play with his fire engine. What was all the full about these orange thingys?
So he went floorward and played with his (was Boy9's) Fireman Sam fire engine. Happy days. Happy loving firemen and their big powerful engines days...

[NEE-NAR-NEE-NAR]
BabyBoy2: 'YAYYYY! NEE-NAR!'
Mrs. Amazing: 'Quick! Quick! Pull over'
...I was...
Mrs. Amazing: <Leans out of window and starts whoopering and hollering>
Must you do this every time?
Mrs. Amazing: 'Just showing them some support'
What are you holding? Is that a sign? IS THAT YOUR PHONE NUMBER?
Mrs. Amazing: 'Er... Return of the Jedi, Leia in a gold bikini'
Er... <Is distracted> er... <Returning to reality>
What?... What were we talking about?
Mrs. Amazing: 'Pie'
Mmmmmmm... Pie

(Yeah but can he do this? <Does insane amazing dance>
Mrs. Amazing: ‘You know... I bet he can’t’ <Smiles>
Yeah!)

I sit and think about what to carve for BabyBoy2.  
And then carve him a pirate themed pumpkin. He has started saying shouting 'Ahoy' and 'Arrrrr matey' lately so I figure it could be a hit. Plus I feel confident I can carve an eye patch.
It goes so well I get cocky. And add more things round the side. They go wrong.
And the scar on the left fails. It was supposed to be a hash mark.
I stop carving anything more. But overall I'm happy. I show BabyBoy2.
BabyBoy2 cares not.
That's just a weird vegetable that you've cut bits out of.
You weirdos.

Miss5's pumpkin:
As Miss5 actually cares what is on her pumpkin. She was given paper and asked to draw what she wanted. Mrs. Amazing did this. Not me.
Had it been me Miss5 would have been given limited, pre-approved, options.
A square. A line. At a push a triangle.
Miss5 shows me her picture when she's done.
I am expecting to see something so complex and abstract that I would have to defy the laws of physics to even carve a shallow copy of it onto a pumpkin.
I fear the worst.

It's fine. Phew.
It's just two big eyes. And a mouth full of thin sharp and very pointy teeth.
The eyes go well and match Miss5's design. But the teeth go badly.
My first cut is a big mistake. I cut the bit I want to keep, as it were. Smeg.
And there's no going back. So one design change later, I carve it with one huge tooth instead.
Miss5 isn't very cool about the change.
Until... I show her the Bat(ish) logo I did on the back.
I get a Miss5 high five.
Life is brilliant.

Boy9:
Having spend a while on BabyBoy2's pumpkin and Miss5's pumpkin. It is only now that I realise Boy 9 has been online. All this time. Searching for the pumpkin design he wants to carve.
OMFB! Get him off the internet! ARGHGHGH!
There's loads and millions of pictures of amazing pumpkin carvings everywhere!
Is that Darth Vader riding a wookie?
That's disgusting

Boy9's design choice is complex.
Way more complex than I was hoping for. It's way past my square, circle and triangle hopes.
There's letters for bacon's sake (FBS)!
I express my concern...

No way. I can't do that!
Boy9: 'Don't worry Dad I'll carve it'
Really? Re-ealllly? Cool!
Boy9: <Does one knife cut>
Boy9: <Does another knife cut>
Boy9: 'It's too hard' <Passes me back the knife>
Boy9: 'Can you do it for me?' <Does big pwease eyes>
No No chance How about a nice square shape? But I was gonna starting eating chocolate
... er... Fine. Sure mate
<Should have seen that coming from a mile off>
<Everyone else leaves to go do fun stuff>

I am not a carver.
I have meagre skills at best. The last of the sun light has gone by the time I am finished and my beard is touching my toes.
Upstairs I can the sounds of a fun bath time going on. Lots of heavy thudding and BabyBoy2 shrieking with delight.
I know it sounds a lot more fun that it is at the end of tiring day. And given the choice Mrs. Amazing would swap in a heartbeat and then ask me to carve it later.
Finally finished. I look at what I have achieved and hope that Boy9 likes it.
Or he will wear it.
I don't want to disappoint him.

(Toothy, Arrr! and Boo!)

I put candles in the three pumpkins.
And line them up in the fireplace for when everyone comes downstairs.
Then I go wash all the pumpkin off my hands. Off my trousers. The floor. The table. My top. My hands again. More floor. My hands once more.
Turns out I'm quite messy when carving.

Pyjamed and ready for milk and cartoons.
They all bundle downstairs and have a look at their pumpkins.
Boy9 gives me a hug thank you when he sees what I carved for him and my heart sings.
Miss5 points out the Bat logo on hers proudly to Boy9. He doesn't care.
And just in case I wasn't feeling the Dad love enough and all Dad-Done-Good about it all...
BabyBoy2 shouts 'Ahoy Matey' when he sees his.
Bonza.

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